


Another Day, Another Nickel

by TheLiteraryOnion



Category: Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys & Sophism (Webcomic)
Genre: A Total Mess - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, That's it, also, because it's cute, but it's fine, darcara, have tissues ready btw, ok fine not all of it's cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLiteraryOnion/pseuds/TheLiteraryOnion
Summary: Just a bunch of little drabbles that came into existence somehow. Enjoy!
Relationships: Lauren Sinclair & Kieran White, Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White, William Hawkes & Kym Ladell, William Hawkes/Kym Ladell
Comments: 37
Kudos: 195





	1. One Time Thing

Being Lune was exhausting. It required running around on the roofs of Ardhalis in trench coats, masks, and top hats during the middle of winter. It also required being silent while doing all of that simultaneously. And it was cold. Lauren _hated_ the cold.

When "Lune" got back to the cave, it wasn't hard to tell Lauren was shivering. Her face was pale, her lips were blue, and her teeth were practically chattering. Kieran would've laughed if it weren't for how miserable she looked. He'd never seen her like this. Cold, tired, and just generally awful.

Knowing her, she probably wouldn't accept help. Okay, definitely wouldn't accept help. So he did what any other normal friend who is totally not attracted to his partner in crime would do: he hugged her.

He completely expected her to fight back, but much to both his and her surprise, she just leaned into his embrace. "This is a one time thing, subordinate. It just happens to be that I'm cold, and you're warm."

_Now_ Kieran laughed. "Well, you're still in my arms aren't you?"

In response, Lauren just buried her face in his shirt and mumbled something incomprehensible. She wasn't lying when she said he was warm. He was warm. He was warm and strong and comforting. Annoyingly so, if you asked her. But then he laughed again, and all of that annoyance melted away. Her heart sped up a little, and her breathing became shallow. Lauren groaned inwardly. _Stupid, whatever this is._

Kieran leaned down a little and rested his head on hers. It wasn't uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. And even though Lauren would never admit it to herself, she enjoyed his embrace. Maybe, this wasn't a one time thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm Brain Dead nice to meet you :)


	2. One Time Thing (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, but more

He knew it. Lauren was cold. Hell, she was _frigid_. And she was in his arms. It took a lot of restraint not to pump his fists in the air and do a little victory dance. Because one, that would be embarrassing. Two, he wouldn’t be holding Lauren anymore.

So he just stood there, his lips and nose resting on the top of her head. Her hair smelled nice. It wasn’t like she was flower-scented or anything. She just smelled like Lauren. Is it bad that he wouldn’t want it any other way?

Eventually, Kieran felt Lauren’s breath even out against his chest. Her weight shifted a little, but not by much. Her body let go of any tension she had. Did Lauren fall asleep standing up?

For some odd reason, that made him smile. It was easy to tell she didn’t sleep much. Why? He didn’t know and didn’t want to pry. Yet here she was, trusting him enough, feeling safe enough to fall asleep in his arms. That had to mean something, right?

He knew they couldn’t stand there all night, but waking her up would make him feel guilty. Kieran wracked his brain for a compromise. Yeah, there was the obvious one, just wake her up, and help her get home, but he _really_ wanted to refrain from waking her up. She might’ve not been able to fall asleep again afterwards, and every minute of sleep mattered. He thought, and thought, and thought, but his feet eventually started to fall asleep.

Sighing in defeat, Kieran picked Lauren up bridal style, and walked over to the bed. As gently as he could, Kieran laid her down, trying to be as quiet as possible while not waking her.

As soon as he left contact with her, she started to shiver.

Well great, _now_ what was he supposed to do? He might have another blanket somewhere, but if it was in the cave, then it was probably growing mold. He didn’t want to yank the blanket out from underneath her either because that would almost definitely wake her up.

Dammit! Why should he care? Lauren was a big girl, she could handle herself. Kieran knew that. So _why_ was he being so insistent on caring for her?

He let out another sigh. Making his way to the coat rack, he tried to think of every good reason not to do this.

_You’re damn near enemies when it comes to the law. You live pretty far away; you’re gonna be freezing on the walk home. And even if you don’t go home, how will this look when she wakes up? She definitely won’t be happy. She’d be furious with you. She didn’t like you to begin with._

He stopped at the last thought. He’d known that she wasn’t fond of him for quite some time, but that sentence still stung worse than the bitter wind of Ardhalis’s worst winters. All of the things he thought were true. They were practically enemies. One wrong move, and it could all crumble. So why did he care so much?

He let his impulses take over his insecurities. Kieran grabbed his coat, draped it over Lauren, then tucked her against him. His heart was pounding, blood rushed in his ears. Inside, he was screaming. Every inch of fear inside him kept saying, “ _You dumb fuck! You absolute buffoon! Abort mission! Abort mission!_ ”

But something else said, “ _Whatever you do, do not leave her side._ ”

So he listened. He didn’t leave her side.

He was starting to wonder if he ever would.


	3. Cuts are a Problem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran's sad and hates himself, but Lauren's got his back. Also, this is angsty, fair warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY KIDS READ THIS PLEASE!!! IT'S FOR YOU!!! Reader discretion is advised, this chapter has themes such as depression and wanting to die, be careful, I love you <3\. I'll give you some Kywi fluff tomorrow, pinky promise.

Cuts are a problem. That's exactly why every time he found one on his body after a mission, it made him happy in a sad way. His job is dangerous, so injuries are guaranteed. For some reason, it granted a sweet bit of relief from this twisted career.

He's had plenty of injuries throughout his years, especially when he was on the streets after the Allendale Train Station Tragedy. It was there he learned how to stitch quickly and effectively. Somedays, he wished he'd never learned the skill. His wounds could just fester, and he could die. He'd finally be released of this sick prison of life. He could go to hell like a good murder and suffer his eternal punishment. The leader could lose a valuable asset. Maybe Lauren would have a better chance at bringing him down that way.

Lauren. Kieran sighed. She was the reason why he patched himself up after finding cuts. Otherwise, she'd notice. She always notices. Nothing gets past Lauren, especially the cuts. So he patches himself up when he can. If he needs her, then he asks, simple as that. It was better than seeing her disappointed in him. Why did seeing her face twist into concern hurt him more than the cuts?

Cuts are a problem. That's exactly why every time he found one on his body after a mission, he'd patch himself up. For his partner.


	4. Love and Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea time with Kywi, but make it slightly angsty

Kym and Will had a tradition. Every Friday, they would meet at a small café before work, and just talk about life and all of its little blessings. Every time, Kym would order Earl Grey tea, and Will would order jasmine, then they’d switch, just for the sake of it. One could call it an inside joke, but in reality, they just liked doing things for each other. 

Neither would ever be able to admit it, though. Even as the years went on, neither could even put a name to the way they felt about each other. Both called it friendship, and both suspected that it was something a little more. Both never entertained the idea for too long, though, because really, what reason would they have to like them back?

Then the springs turned to summers, the summers turned autumns, the autumns to winters. Every Friday, they would dance around each other until it was seemingly impossible to ignore their growing affection. 

Kym would cancel their little morning dates, saying she felt sick that morning, or she woke up late. She was scared. Who wouldn’t be? Love has too many unknowns to even coherently list. 

Will would nod, and sigh in relief. He knew she was making excuses, but he was scared, too. Love had too many what ifs for Will. Love seemed to remind him of the monsters he thought were in his closet as a kid. He knew there was nothing to be scared of, but the possibility made it all the more horrifying.

Kym and Will had a tradition. They used to meet at a tiny café, and order each other’s favorite tea. Now, they became bitter at the mere scent of Earl Grey and jasmine tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised Kywi, so here it is, sorry it's late :)


	5. Maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran's simping again because I have no ideas for anything else

He was stupid. There were many reasons why, but this one took the gold. He was stupid because he didn’t realize just how in love he was with a partner he shouldn’t have even had. Yes, he knew she was attractive, and his endless flirting had to have come from somewhere. The problem was, he just didn’t know where. He only knew that whatever encouraged the flirting  _ shouldn’t _ be there. She was a cop. He was the most feared assassin in Ardhalis. She could detect lies. He only told them. She was warm. He was cold. She was good. He was bad. They shouldn’t even associate with each other. 

Oh, but the way the moonlight caught in her eyes and on her clothes made her look like an otherworldly being woven completely out of silver. And the way crimson hair flowing behind her as they ran across rooftops was oddly comforting. And how the cool, midnight winter air stung his cheeks, but didn’t stop them from heating up anytime he glanced her way. And the way she looked so free out here with him. Any other person wouldn’t have noticed the tiny smile on her face, mostly because of the mask, but it wasn’t hard for him to notice.

That smile made him smile. Maybe she enjoyed these little missions, too. Maybe she even enjoyed his presence. The thought made his stomach and chest feel strange. He couldn’t breathe, and he felt as if he were flying. Maybe it was the altitude? Running on the roofs wasn’t a new thing for him, so that probably wasn’t it. Whatever it was, it was annoying… but it felt good.

Soon enough, they were on the ground and running through the woods. Ever since she’d called his cave stinky, he felt a little insecure about returning to it every night with her. Did she really think it was stinky? It was weird how much that little comment affected him. Yeah, he joked about it, but it still hurt.

The partners in crime turned the corner, finally reaching Lune’s cave. Lauren was in front of him, but he jogged ahead and pulled open the gate with a bow. “After you, darling,” he said, only half-joking. 

She looked over at him and gave an amused smile. God, with that smile, she could take him down. The scary part was, he would let her. Hell, he would  _ thank  _ her. “Thank you,  _ subordinate, _ ” she said.

He wasn’t sure about her, but he was growing rather fond of the nickname. Was she growing fond of the nicknames he gave her, too?

Somewhere deep inside him laughed, and gave him a cold, hard  _ no.  _ Yet from somewhere just a little deeper, a small voice whispered  _ maybe _

Kieran clung to that maybe for dear life. Maybe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can... can y'all suggest something for me to write? I'll give credit for the idea, if you're all okay with it! Thanks :)


	6. Summer Evenings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afterwards?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Rain :)

The summer evening was cool, but it wasn't chilly. It was the nice, refreshing kind of cool that only spring mornings and summer evenings brought.

Lauren took a deep breath. This was the first time she could relax in what felt like years. Things were still messy, but this felt like the only time she'd been able to breathe. Whether that was because Kieran was next to her, or because they had finally taken down the Phantom Scythe, she genuinely didn't know. She was just happy for the break, and happy to have her subordinate with her.

Throughout the years, they'd grown both individually and together. The war with PS did leave scars, but they ended up being the bandages and salve that the other needed in order to heal. Kieran was still in hiding from the APD, but he's been managing. There might not have been another way to keep him from the law, which made a small part of Lauren feel conflicted. But a much larger part was relieved he was still alive. By now, she couldn't count how many times they'd almost died. But they weren't dead yet. It seemed that it would take a little more than a group of terrorists to kill them.

Lauren traced Kieran's knuckles with her thumb, her hand in his. The summer evening was cool, but it wasn't chilly. No, it was the perfect weather for dancing under the slowly darkening sky. And the dance would be eternal in that night. It'd be there forever. And that was all they needed. Forever trapped in one night.


	7. Mystery Assassin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Carmine Camelia episode, but make it angsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warning! If you haven't read chapter 57, then don't read! Go read chapter 57!!

Kick. Block. Strike. Parry. Swipe. Dodge. Whoever this other assassin was, they were a good fighter. Small, but quick. The masked figure's fighting style felt oddly familiar. It was as if they'd fought before. Why did it leave a bitterness in Kieran's throat? 

The two continued to jump over the roofs of the Carmine Camelia. Kieran pursued the masked figure, aiming to leave no witnesses left behind. He flung his steel throwing stars towards the mystery figure, just barely snagging their mask. They quickly turned away, probably to keep their identity safe. It wasn't that Kieran wanted to know. He really didn't care. The only thing he knew was that this other spy saw Kieran at the Carmine Camelia, and that was an issue.

He bolted after the other person, running on nothing but adrenaline and will power. He cast another handful of stars again. A yelp of pain signaled that Kieran had succeeded. It was almost definitely bad that he felt relieved. 

The other assassin was slower now, what with the wound in their side. It was a good thing Kieran could put them out of their misery soon. That injury looked bad. The person in all black was still moving along the roofs now, desperately trying to get to safety. Kieran hated this part of his job. 

It didn't take long to pin them down. That wound must've hurt like hell while rubbing up against the shingles. A cry of anguish confirmed it. Kieran ripped away his mask, and then the other assassin's as well.

His heart stopped. His eyes widened. The air was sucked out of his lungs.  _ No. No, no, no,  _ **_no_ ** _! _ He threw himself off of Lauren, both of them shocked and in pain. 

Officer Lauren Sinclair, jumped back up and stumbled. On instinct, Kieran went to help, but was met with a knife to his throat. Laurens side was stained in blood. Her breathing was labored, and she looked sick. "Don't."

That one word, one little mumble contained more venom and bitterness and raw heartbreak than even the best poets could describe. 

Kieran fell. 

What had he done?  
  
Kneeling, he watched Lauren jump away, struggling but running nonetheless. He had sworn. He had made a promise. And he had shattered it into pieces. God, what had he done?


	8. Autumn Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia fluff because she's baby. It kinda goes off topic? Eh. It's fine, it's cute.

If you asked Sophia what her favorite season was, she would say autumn with no hesitation. "There are a lot of reasons to like fall," she'd say. "Like my birthday! And the pretty leaves on the ground. And the yummy food! Oh! Oh! And it reminds me of Mommy and Daddy and Nathaniel!" 

Her teacher asked her why on the first day of school, curious as to how such a miserable season reminded her of her parents. 

But Sophia just smiled and said, "Mommy's hair looks like the leaves, and Daddy gives me hugs that remind me of my favorite sweater! And Nathaniel and I like to jump into biiiiig leaf piles! And we go on  _ really _ long walks, just me and Mommy and Daddy and Nate! That's why I like fall!" The little girl was nothing but smiles as she went back to coloring her picture.

That evening when Sophia got home, she ran upstairs to Lucy's room and asked to go surprise Kieran and Lauren at the APD. Lucy knew the little five year old wouldn't let go of this, so she gave in early. It was around 4:00pm, and they usually worked till 6, so two hours shouldn't have been very long.

When they arrived, Lucy dropped Sophia off at the station, and went back home. Everyone there was extremely protective of the little girl, even soulless Hermann. She knew her way around the building, so she was able to find her parents fairly quickly. 

She was  _ able _ . But instead, she chose to sneak around all quiet like. It was a surprise so she  _ had _ to be quiet. Those were the rules. The adults around the station noticed her almost immediately, but they played along, doing nothing but smiling to themselves. 

Eventually, Sophia snuck into their office, really avoiding everyone this time. Not even Lila noticed the little girl enter.   
  
Sophia snuck over to Lauren's desk and swiped the stapler.   
  
Lauren hadn't noticed and went to use it, but found it missing when she felt nothing. Her brow creased in confusion. Where had she put it? She usually kept it there. Had someone borrowed it? "Will, Kym, have you seen my stapler? It was here just a second ago I swear," she said, opening her draws and rummaging. 

The Hawkes shook their heads. "Nah, I haven't seen it," Kym said. Will just shrugged.   
  
Sophia jumped out from under her mother's desk with the stapler. "Boo!" she yelled, trying to make herself seem scary. To her satisfaction, a good portion of the office jumped or yelped. The black haired girl cackled to herself.   
  
Lauren sighed with a smile on her face and picked up her child. "And just what are you doing here, my little raven?" she said.  
  
Sophia giggled. "Today in school, we were talking about our favorite seasons! And my teacher asked me why I liked fall, so I said Mommy and Daddy and Nate! Then I didn’t want to wait _forever_ for you to get home. So I came to surprise you here!" she said.   
  
A moment later, Kieran burst into the room, clearly sprinting. "I heard screaming, is everything okay?" he rushed out. Then he saw Sophia, and sighed in relief. She had this effect on people where whenever she was in the room, at least _one_ person would end up screaming. He really did have some scary girls, huh?  
  
Lauren let out a hearty laugh. “Well, good job, Sophia. I think you surprised us very well.”


	9. Thing happen i guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> O o f

Aight, so I'm not gonna be writing for a little while due to life and the fact that I have completely run out of ideas. I'll see you in a week-ish. Also, if any of you have ideas, I'd be willing to write them!! I'll give credit and everything! Thanks for your patience and understanding, folxs!! Love ya! <3


	10. Prayers and Priorities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orphans. Yay.

Kieran’s never been one to pray. Even in his childhood, he didn’t go to church very often with his mother. But Lauren’s sick. _Really_ sick. And he isn’t a healer. He doesn’t know what to do. That day, he has to go get an assignment in the church at Greychapel. He’s given his assignment without much trouble. Usually he’d leave first, but a small idea forms in his mind. He walks towards the door and waits for the messenger to leave. When he’s confirmed that no one is around anymore, he goes up to the altar and just falls down to his knees so hopeless and desperate that he doesn't even care if God exists or not because if there is a god, maybe it can save her. Maybe he can make Lauren better. Kieran isn’t a healer or a doctor. He’s a murderer. He doesn’t know anything about saving people. But if there is a god, maybe it knows something. Anything. He hates the state he's in, but he hates the state Lauren's in even more. 

The orphans hear something from inside the usually quiet church. Curiosity is hard to resist in youth. They sneak in and see someone crying softly before the altar. As they look closer, they recognize him. "We know him," they whisper. "That's the nice man who gave us money." 

"Who made him cry?"

"Why is he so sad?"

"He used to look so happy..."

One of the younger orphans starts crying, too. "I don't like it when grown-ups are sad," she sniffles out. 

Kieran hears the child crying in the empty church. Every little noise seemed to be amplified, no matter how small. Being in a church used to hurt his ears when he was little because of it. *Emptiness makes the small things echo,* his mother used to say. Looks like she had been right in more than one way.  
  
He turns around, and sees the orphans. *Had he really been crying?* He feels his cheeks and looks down at his fingers. Sure enough, they come back wet. Kieran sighs. It’s the first time he’s cried in a while. Funny he should cry over this. 

Kieran stands up and walks over to the little orphan girl, who's still crying. He kneels down in front of her, meeting the child at eye level. "Hey," he says, his voice like the softest it’s ever been, "what's wrong?"

"Y-you were cr-crying a-and it ma-ade me sad, too," she hiccups. 

*Nice going, Kieran. Did you really need to make one more person cry?* He sighs inwardly. Seems like everywhere he went, pain was never far behind. Kieran softly pulls the child in for a hug. He knew that she shouldn't be hugging a murderer, but he just couldn't leave her crying, not when he made her cry. This is the first time in a long time that he’s had the chance to make something right. He’s not going to blow it. "Shhh, it's okay. See? I'm all better now," he says.

Comforting people has never been his strong suit, not even in youth. But for some reason, this helpless, little, starving child reminds him so much of himself. The child reaches up and hugs him back, crying just a little harder. In a moment or two, Kieran holds a child for the first time in his life. He stands up, shushing her and rocking her. Right now, Kieran couldn't focus on himself. He has much higher priorities at the moment. It was strange. But he welcomed it nonetheless.

The seed of an idea, one that a murderer should never be allowed to have, slips into his mind. *Would it be possible,* the seed whispers, *for me to have a family one day?* . 

He quickly pushed that idea away. He tried to stomp on this disgusting seed of hope. He is the least deserving of a family, of love, of *life.* Besides, who would want to be with a man like him? A murderer, a thief, lawbreaker. He destroyed families. Why should he get the blessing of one? 

But even still, that stupidly resilient seed kept growing. He snaps back to reality. The once crying child was now fast asleep. She must've worn herself out. A sad smile appears on his face. Why, he doesn’t know. He seems to not know a lot of things lately.

He looks around for a place to set her down. His eyes land on a pew that’s still intact, probably strong enough to hold the freakishly light child. He starts to walk over towards it, not expecting the orphans to follow. The orphans, however, did. They’re drawn to this nice man, the only one who really cares. 

Carefully, Kieran lays the little girl down on the pew, taking off her coat for her to use as a pillow, and taking off his own for her to use as a blanket. His apartment was nearby, and he has a good amount of spare blankets. Going back and giving one to the cold little children, didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Kieran looks down at the rest of the orphans, worried about their honorary sister. *What if,* the seed that thought of family whispers, *I already have my own little family?*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And BOOM That's the story of how the orphans got very familiar with Kieran, and how he started to visit them daily owo.


	11. Sunny Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lauren's a lovely little cynic :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I Died, sorry

Lauren didn't like sunny days. Call her pessimist, cynic, whatever you will. But she has a good reason to not like sunny days. For one, they give her ghostly pale skin awful sunburn, which leads to her needing to wear warmer clothes, which leads to overheating, which leads to headaches and heat sickness and not being able to do her job and ugh. Also, the sun gets in her eyes. Speaking of, more men would say how "her eyes look even more pensive in the sunlight then they did at first glance," which just made her even more irritated. And then her mask would deem useless, which was when they had to use the darkening screens, which were never fun, since her long eyelashes often caught on them. Then she couldn't focus, and the possibility of her missing something important came up. 

Although she'd never really admit why she didn't like sunny days. In all honesty, it was because they didn't remind her of Kieran. Now cloudy days, rainy days, foggy days, even stormy days, she could put up with. But sunny days crossed the line. Because the comfort that rain brought reminded her of Kieran's scent and the dark color the puddles turned when nightfall came looked like his hair, and the cloudy days somehow reminded her of Lune, which lead to her thinking of Kieran. And the foggy days made her mind wander to the sound of his voice when he thought deeply, that same unclear but steady tone. And the stormy days made her think of him, because, well to be blunt, they were a storm, in more ways than one. 

Lauren has a very good reason to dislike sunny days. Because no matter what she does, she just can't link Kieran to the light. And whoever said that the light was a good thing? Or the dark a bad thing? Maybe it was okay to like any other day but a sunny day. Even if it made her a cynic.


	12. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Kywi for the soul! I usually don't write Kywi, but I'm actually kinda proud of this one :)

Kym didn't really like wearing dresses. They were big and scratchy and hardly good for running and jumping, much less dancing, and *ugh* don't even get her _started_ on the corsets, and were overall quite a pain in her ass. But so was her boyfriend, who had scored them an invitation to some fancy event this evening. Kym would usually skip out on this kind of thing, but Will wouldn't stop insisting that she go, which was strangely out of character, she'll admit. So unfortunately for her, she had to go out and buy a dress.

Will called her name from downstairs, saying it was almost time to leave. Kym took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like herself, just a little done up. She honestly felt like she'd be looking at a stranger, but nope. There she was. Her usually unruly navy blue hair was combed, but still not quite neat. The gold and sapphire necklace that laid at the base of her neck wasn't uncomfortable but not the best. She'd decided to go without makeup. It wasn't exactly her type of thing, and she was able to accept that she wasn't good with it. She wasn't good with any of this, to be honest. Fancy wasn't her thing. 

She brushed off her cream colored gown. This one wasn't too bad. Lauren had helped Kym pick it out, so that helped a bit. Lauren had said that it looked nice with Kym's eyes, whatever that meant. Kym sighed and stuffed her pocket watch in the blue sash of her dress, and went downstairs. 

Kym found Will tapping his foot anxiously in the foyer, and checking his watch. Okay yeah, something was up. Usually, he'd do whatever he could to postpone fancy whatevers. He looked around, for what seemed to be the millionth time when his eyes landed on Kym. 

He actually needed to do a double take. He knew Kym was beautiful. He knew that she was graceful and ferocious and enchanting. But know? God, he didn't just know it. He _felt_ it. No words could possibly describe her in a-

"Will," she said.

"Uh, um ah, yeah?" he stuttered.

"You're doing the thing again."

"What thing?"

She made her way down the staircase, light as a feather and smooth and sweet as chocolate. "You know, the one where you stare, then I call you out, and you get all flustered and try to defend yourself, but it doesn't work," she said with a wink.

Will almost died. He opened his mouth the argue, but found that he had no words. His face was probably so red right now. "Let's go," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze. 

Kym chuckled and his heart either sped up or stopped. He couldn't tell. "I win," she said, walking up next to him and outside. 

"So Willame," she said once they were in the car, "where are we going?" 

"A party we were invited to. It's not one of those stuffy 'stuck-up' parties, so don't worry. Just a few friends in the park," he said.

Well this seemed like a little much for "a few friends in the park". Kym looked at him skeptically, but played along. What wasn't he telling her? She'd find out soon enough, but still. It kind of hurt when he hid things.

Soon enough, they were there. It was just a few aristocrats, including Lauren. It'd be a lie to say that Kym didn't have a least a little fun with her friends while making fun of the rich people who were too "good" to pour their own champagne. 

For Kym, it didn't seem to end soon enough. She was reasonably tired by the end of it, since it was late, and she really just wanted to go home and take off this _goddamned corset_. 

Will however, couldn't be more nervous. Yes, the party was okay, he guessed, but what was yet to come was really making his heart rate rise. This could either go two ways: she'd hate him and never want to see him again, or she'd say yes. Will prayed it would be the latter. 

As the two were just about the leave, Will pulled her aside. "Would you mind if we go for a little walk? I need some air away from people," he said, trying to keep his voice even. 

What's up with him? Was he okay? Did he hit his head?

"Okay sure, if you tell me why you've been acting so strange," she said, walking away from the dying party with him.

"Pshhh, what are you talking about? I- I haven't been acting _strange_ -" he tried to say.

Kym interrupted him with an unamused look. "I know you, Will," she said. Kym sighed. If this was sensitive, then she needed to be gentle. "Look, if there's something wrong, you know you can tell me, right?"

Will looked at her, sort of shocked. If he's shocked then everything should be okay, right? "Oh, actually everything's fine. It's," he paused. Okay. He needed to start now. This was it. No going back. "It's actually been amazing. Everything's been nothing short of perfect. The life I have now, with you, I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Will-" Kym started. What is going on?

Then he got down on one knee. Oh. So _that's_ what's going on! Oh my god, that's what going on. He's proposing to her. _Oh my god._

"Kym Ladell, you are my favorite person on earth. I won't lie, if it weren't for you Ardhalis wouldn't be what it is. _I_ wouldn't be who I am. You've always been this hurricane in my life. So big and noticeable and changing my world in everyway. I don't know what I'd be, if I would _be_ at all, without you. So, Kym, I have a sort of weird question," he pulled out a small box and opened it. Inside was a small, plain ring with a single gemstone on it. Kym recognized it immediately. A sunstone. _Soleil_ she thought. Her hands rushed to her mouth in amazement. He really did think of everything, did he? 

"Will you marry me?"

"Will, take one look at me." she said, smiling and crying. "Now tell me, what do you think?"

He froze. If only he could see his face right now. "Um, well I'm _hoping_ -"

"Yes!"

She knelt down and joined their hands. Will thought he was sly, slipping the ring on her finger as she did so, but Kym felt it. And she'd never take it off. "Yes."


	13. ANGST MONTH! Prompt: Speechless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's angst month everybody!! I'm only going to be doing a few prompts when I can and just wrote this one on a whim. I'll let you know what the prompt is when I post!

The five senses were actually supposed to be twelve. Lauren had heard that once, but never believed it until now, when she could list every single one. She could _feel_ every single one.

Sight. She didn’t want to see. She partially couldn’t, since there was blood in her eye. What she could see, though, was a scene of violence and horror and pain. She wished she couldn’t see.

Hearing. The agonizing echoes of death and mourning that raced across her plane of existence made her long for silence. Her heart trying to break its way out of her ribcage and her breathing, quick and light as a rabbit, overshadowed the screams. What she’d give if she couldn’t hear it all.

Touch. She could feel far too many things. The most noticeable however was warmth. Sticky, oozing, red warmth. She didn’t know whose blood it was, but she did know that at least some of it was her own. If she lived through this, she’d have an awful infection. God, if only she were numb.

Smell. Wherever she was, it made her want to puke. The thick stench of blood, the odor of decaying bodies, and the acid reek of bile and war flooded her lungs and made her gag every now and then. What she’d do to lose her nose.

Taste. There was something sour. At least, Lauren thought there was. It was hard to tell behind the taste of iron. That doubled with the smell made her want to vomit even more. She’d chop off her tongue if she could.

Balance. Lauren was starting to lose hers. The world was tilting. She tripped over what she thought was a rock. When she looked back, she saw that it was someone. Or rather what was left of someone. Lauren just wanted to lay down and die.

Movement. Everything was a blur, but oh so defined. She felt every little breeze of wind and everything around her, but couldn’t feel herself moving, running, sprinting towards the center of it all. Why couldn’t it all just stop?

Ego. Lauren felt individual in her goal, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like another pawn in this final battle. She neared the center, one thing in mind. All she wanted, all she needed was to blend into the nothing around her.

Thought. Lauren’s mind was usually a mess, but right now, it was focused on one thing. _Please. Let him be alive. Let me find him. Let me do this._ Her thoughts, she yearned to turn into reality. 

Speech. She spots him. He’s on the ground. _He’s on the ground!_ She runs over to him, carefully picking him up, cradling him in her lap.

“Hey, hey listen to me, you’re going to be okay. I’ll get you out of here, I’ll-” her voice cracks. 

Kieran puts a hand on her arm and smiles weakly. He leans his head up and little, as if beckoning her to come closer. 

She leans down, and prepares to hear what she knows will be his final words. She wished on every star she could, prayed to every god she knew of that this wouldn’t be the end.

He inhaled slightly. A little breath.

And he exhaled a second later. 

He didn’t say anything.

Warmth. There was none in Kieran’s body anymore. There was none in Lauren’s heart now, either. There was fire burning all around them, sweat dripped down Lauren’s back. So why did she feel so very cold?

Life. A tricky thing to describe. As a sense, it’s knowing whether you are functioning and conscious or not. Was Lauren alive or dead? Was all of this just hell for her misdeeds? Was she already gone, and this was her punishment? How could her heart beat when he was her heart? A fact stuck out like a sore thumb. Kieran didn’t have his life anymore. And neither did Lauren.


	14. Oranges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's what went down. I said "Yeah, we can make anything into angst," in a discord server. Then, Grey said "Oranges. Orange angst." So I did, and it was long, so here it is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I died. But don't worry I came back :D

Everyone has that memory of a special landmark from their childhood home, like a bush, or a garden gate, mine was a lilac tree, a friend of mine had a patch of woods in their backyard, etc. 

For Kieran, it was an orange tree. The tree had always been tall and old, even to his grandmother, who'd lived on the master's estate since she was a baby. Its fragrance was like nothing he'd ever had the blessing to smell, both back then and to this day. The fruit it bore was never too bitter, and never too sweet, and always filling. Its branches were used for kindling, or to play swords with his cousins and Ciara. They couldn't let the master see, otherwise they'd be punished, but the fun still lasted while it could. On hot summer nights, the tree would look ready for a festival, unripe fruit sitting in its crown. Then when barren, cold, unforgiving winter rolled around, it gave its fruit, in a kind gesture of compassion. It was simply beautiful. Never once had the tree, whom he called Satsuma, let him down.

When he was younger, he'd pretend that it was planted by the kings of old and provided food for those who needed it. The last part stood true for him. His master wasn't the brightest, and Kieran was small for the majority of his childhood, so slipping away from the estate with his cousins or Ciara was easy. The orange tree wasn't very far, just a mile or two away. They had to scurry out and run as quickly as they could, but they always thought of it as a game. They'd collect the fruit and bring it back for Baasan and Mama, and they'd feast. It was practically tradition.

Until his last year at the estate. Baasan had passed just the year before, and they had to bury her body in secret. Kieran and his cousins went in the night and buried her next to Satsuma. They didn't have time to mourn. So Satsuma did for them. She dropped her petals on the make-shift grave, and dropped some to put on her altar, too. They'd been friends, and it was sad to see a friend go. 

But they didn’t have time to listen to Satsuma’s stories like they did when they were younger. So they rushed back to the estate, just before sunrise. Even if a year had passed, that day seemed like yesterday to him. He’d been punished a lot more in the past year than he had been in his entire life. It’d made him cold. He couldn’t go to visit Satsuma and Baasan anymore. He’d grown, and his schedule was filled. He didn’t even have time to draw. His last drawing was the one used for Baasan’s altar.  
  
Everyday he felt a little piece of humanity slipping away. His cousins left one by one, sold to another master or whipped to death. He wasn’t a very religious boy (though at this point, one could argue that he was a man), but he prayed every night that his cousins were at peace either with a new life or in the next. A single year shouldn’t determine much. And yet, it has transformed this orange-loving, hard-working, bright-eyed boy into a hardened, dark man.  
  
Finally, his day came.  
  
Someone had bought him. From a continent over. He could tell it was going to be a long trip.  
  
His mother wept, and his sister begged. But what could a broken slave boy do? He tried not to cry, he tried to be strong. But he couldn’t keep it all down. So a tear slipped, and his mother caught it in her tear vial. He hugged his mother and sister one last time. And he was,... _not_ about to be shipped away without taking something from the man who took his cousins.  
  
Two nights before his departure, he snuck around the estate looking for whatever he could. Anything that was valuable, useful, and wouldn’t be noticed. He saw the suit first. Then the stars. And finally, the sword. Desperately and carefully, he smuggled them out. For a moment, he felt nervous. Until he remembered that this wasn’t just a stick. It was a blade, capable of harm. He wasn’t helpless anymore. 

He put it in the single crate he was allowed to take and disguised them as clothes and books.  
  
The night came for him to leave. He made sure his mother and Ciara were fast asleep before we went out one more time. To see his Baasan. And to see Satsuma.  
  
He crept up to the tree. Snow fell gently around the altar and on Satsuma’s leaves. He promised himself he’d be numb. No more feeling. Because it hurts. But this time was a strange exception. His gentle sobs were softer than the snow, and his tears didn’t quite freeze. For the first time in a long time, he was a little kid again. He reached up and picked an orange. His favorite treat. Leaving some for Baasan, he sat and ate. A feeling similar to content wiggled its way into Kieran’s heart. His shoulders dropped. His tension was left behind. His breathing was even. Taking one last waft of Satsuma's gentle scent, he got up. One last glance at Baasan’s altar, littered with pieces of fruit, and he was gone.  
  


* * *

Kieran pulls away from Lauren, a sudden step back. They’re in the cave, sorting files. _Her perfume_ … he thinks.  
  
“Kieran? Is everything okay?”  
  
The memories of warm summers and delicious treats flee his mind as he says, “Perfectly fine. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d actually started to care about me, officer!” The casual wink he shoots her way severs ties with his past. Even if he tries, he doubts he’ll ever be able to forget the orange tree completely. Even if he wants to, he doubts he’ll ever be able to remember its joy completely, too.


	15. Procrastination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DARCARA!!!! DarcyxCiara :3 Also a lil Kywi!!! Inspired by Urm0m's new year's party au :)

The evening was young, the year was old. And this stupid party would be the death of her. Diana Darcy has never liked parties and never will. They were either too loud or too quiet, too stuffy or too empty, too rambunctious or too formal, and they simply weren't her scene. Her scene was at a desk, furiously typing away whatever her mind and fingers would let her late in the night straight on to the wee hours of the morning.

But this was a party. Darcy (she really hated her first name, considering her father named her. May God damn that man straight to hell.) couldn't get out of this event either. Especially since she'd be going with her _fiancé,_ William Hawkes. The man she was to be married to wasn't hostile, nor old and cruel. It was a shame how low the bar sat, but it was something that could not be helped. It wasn't like she had a say in this, if you haven't picked up on that already.

So there she stood in her terribly inconvenient dress next to a very distracted man. They didn't talk, and both were okay with that. Neither wanted to know each other more than they had to before their union, as some sort of last act of rebellion. This party would be boring without her writing partner. It was always so easy to relax and laugh around her. _She won't be here,_ Darcy reminds herself. It'd help a little more if Darcy could focus on the person beside her rather than the person on her mind.

When they got there, Darcy cleared her throat to get Will's attention. They'd known each other since they were children but still not very well. "Will, if you would like to wander off by yourself at some point during the evening, please know that you are allowed. I honestly couldn't give a-" she stopped herself, reminding her sailor mouth that she was around aristocracy. "I couldn't care less," she said with a smile.

Will returned it. "Thank you, Dia- _Darcy,_ " he corrected, "I appreciate it greatly."

Darcy really didn’t know Will very well, but she was able to tell he seemed exhausted, nervous, and… disappointed somehow? She knew her father pushed him well beyond his limits, but this was a different form of weariness. If she wasn’t a writer, she doubted she’d be able to detect it. After all, she’d only ever seen it in her imagination and in between the ink of stories. Heartbreak.   
  
For some reason, she could relate. Strongly. Which seemed ridiculous considering that she wasn’t in love. But after this marriage, she’d never be allowed to fall in love. Of course sneaky people were able to pull off affairs, but Darcy didn’t like the idea. Marriage was supposed to be the end. The Happily Ever After, the last sentence. But it just felt like writer’s block. What’s going to happen next? Will they be put in danger? Will our characters ever find a way out? _Will little Darcy ever be able to write again?_ She wonders.   
  
At the thought of writing, her mind returns to her writing partner. Darcy’s most trusted editor, alpha reader, detail-suggester, and friend. A very dear friend, reliable and kind. In Darcy’s opinion, her editor had the most poetic mind there was. A beautiful one that she wanted nothing more than to explore and know like the back of her hand.

“Darcy? Darcy, are you well?” the voice next to her asked. 

“Oh! Yes, fine. Excuse my distance. What were you saying?” she said, her heart sinking at reality’s cold face. 

“It’s okay, really. I was asking if you were ready to enter?” he said, not looking quite as miserable as before. No, it’s her turn now.   
  
Sucking up all of the courage she had, Diana Darcy put on a façade that she’d never had to before: that of a loving bride to be. She wanted to gag at the thought, but swallowed it and followed Will into the ballroom. No turning back now. 

When they entered the ballroom, her escort froze. It wasn’t hard to tell that Will had spotted whomever he was so heartbroken over. Darcy followed his line of sight and found a rather beautiful young woman elegantly holding a glass of champagne. The woman seemed uncomfortable in the formal setting, and clearly wasn’t used to it. The girl seemed to hold a free spirit. It wasn’t hard to tell that Will was affectionate towards her. 

The bride-to-be smiled and rolled her eyes. “Will, go to her. You look as if you’re about to start drooling,” she said jokingly, letting his arm go.  
  
Will snapped over his head to look at Darcy. “I- I am certain that I do not! And besides, _if_ I go, what would I say? I doubt I’d be able to even talk! I mean look at her! She’s just so-” 

“Splendid? Graceful? Extraordinary? Beautiful, no, _gorgeous_ ?” she asked, trying to tempt him to talk to her.   
  
“ _Ky_ _m_ ,” he said, almost in a sad way.   
  
Darcy laughs a little. She knew that they had to get married soon, but he seemed head over heels for this woman. It would be cruel to deprive him of her when he so obviously needs her to survive.

“When you go up to her, say this: ‘Kym? I didn’t expect you to actually show up. I’m surprised you were able to clean up so well, to be quite honest,’” Darcy said, telling him to do what she’d tell a character in her stories to do. 

“And if I stumble?” he asked, looking far more nervous than before. 

“If you’d like, I can push you down these stairs to get the stumbling part over with!” she said innocently.   
  
Will sighed. “Okay okay! I’ll,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll go talk to her. Will you be okay alone?” 

Darcy gave him a weary smile. “I’ll be fine. Go! You’re procrastinating!” she said. 

Will returned her smile. “Thank you Ms. Darcy.”  
  
All she can do is nod.

The party was bland. If she’d been allowed to bring her notepad and a pen (that just so happened to be a very thoughtful gift from her editor), then she’d write down everything she saw in a manner that didn’t make it seem so bad. How would her editor describe it?  
  
Well, she’d probably say something about the creamy hue of the ceiling and the candlelight, soft yet harsh. The pressure of a thousand eyes on a supposedly enjoyable, relaxed night. Young nobles danced around, and while they were different from their parents in many aspects, they mirrored them, completely uptight. And she would definitely mention the gleaming floor that simply begged for a fainting woman to drop a glass of champagne on it. It was too clean and yearned for some sort of imperfection. A room like this has seen nothing but a false image of exact perfection, and it gets boring. Silly are those who think they can achieve a state higher than their own-

“-cruel, selfish, yet breath-takingly beautiful humanity,” a soft voice next to her said. 

The voice startled Darcy out of her thoughts. How did this person manage to say- 

“Well, hello, little lady! I wondered how long it’d take you to notice me,” a woman in an elegant, rich blue gown said to her. The color reflected and brought out her eyes in a way that made Darcy’s heart skip a beat and her stomach do somersaults. The night itself had turned into curls and framed the woman’s tawny cheeks and tulip lips.   
  
“Ciara! I didn’t think you would be here!” Darcy said, both trying to restrain herself from hugging her editor yet also horrified by any sort of touch.

“Well, for once, you’ve thought wrong!,” the woman said. She moved and gestured for Darcy to follow her. “If you don’t mind coming. This room is too full of lies and painted smiles for me to enjoy myself.” Ciara grabs her coat and hat and Darcy’s, too.

Darcy nodded and followed. “I understand what you mean. Unfortunately, I must be one of those painted smiles,” she said, using her index fingers to push up the corners of her lips to exemplify a fake smile.

Her partner frowns. “A false smile is the saddest face there is. Let’s try to change it to a real one, shall we?” Ciara said. 

She opened a door that the two had stopped at and adjusted her coat. 

One the other side, the still winter sat on top of a garden. They both adorned winter gowns, so they would be able to stay warm. If not, then they always had each other for warmth. The idea made Darcy’s cheeks flush. _Embarrassment. Must be._

Ciara offered her gloved hand to Darcy, a bright smile causing her features to sculpt a face superior to Aphrodite’s own.

Darcy hesitated a little. The poor girl’s heart was pounding. What should she do next? She clearly didn’t like being around her beloved friend tonight, for whatever reason, so why did she eagerly accept her gesture the way she did? 

Ciara’s smile grew and she stole Darcy away to the middle of the garden. 

Darcy yelped. “Ciara! Where are you going? Slow down-!” she said just a little too late. 

The two girls came tumbling down on top of each other in the snow. Laughter echoed out around them, even more joyous than the sound of sleigh bells. 

The night was still so calm, so peaceful. Ciara stared at Darcy above her. She’d known for quite a long time that she was in love. But was Darcy, too? The image in front of Ciara froze her lungs, which seemed to be the only part of her affected by the cold. The rest of her was warm. Overwhelmingly so. 

The slow night caught up with Darcy, and she looked down at Ciara. My, can a person even be that gorgeous? Beauty such as Ciara’s was simply supernatural. The contrast of her hair in the snow was reminiscent of Snow White’s. Her eyes gleamed dangerously in the moonlight, studious and soft. The gentle pink of her ears and cheeks and nose flirted with the mauve of her lips. Her lips….

Before Darcy knew what she was doing, she leaned down, closing her eyes and kissing her friend in a way that was not so friendly. To Darcy’s surprise and pleasure, Ciara returned the kiss.   
  
Ciara supposed this is an answer to her previous question. And God, was it a good answer. She wrapped her arms around her writer. Yes, she was boiling, but it was cold and she had an excuse.

The two separated for air, looking at the other in amazement and something most definitely identifiable as love.   
  
“Ciara…,” Darcy said, looking away, “I- I believe we have a problem…”

Ciara places a hand on Darcy’s face. Darcy leans in at her touch. Lord, her hands are frigid. “For now, let it be a problem for later,” she said. A forgiving smile adorns her face. The editor is fully aware of Darcy’s fiancé. But that couldn’t ruin this moment. No, let every other moment be ruined before this one.

Darcy laughs. Or perhaps she cries. It’s hard to tell, considering her numb face. But still, she is able to say one thing: “Okay.”

The two lean in once more and enjoy the warmth. From inside, one could hear the countdown to midnight. Darcy spent the last moment of an old year in Ciara’s arms, and Ciara spent the first moment of a new age in Darcy’s heart.


	16. What Child is This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snuggles, memories, and yaaaay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written with the help of Rohi :3 Thank you friend :D

The snow falls, cold and gentle. It covers the rooftops, the streets, the cars, the windowsills, just about anything it can touch. That included Kieran, his hair, and his coat.   
  
The soft little crystals stick and settles on him, the cold damp making him shiver a little, but that’s okay. He’s almost home. In fact, he can see light from the fireplace and a few candles burning from inside the windows.   
  
A few more steps, and he would be inside a nice warm home waiting for him. A couple of years ago, Kieran would never be able to imagine the life he now led as possible. But here it is, a beautiful reality, something that was apparently impossible. It felt too good to be true, so much so, that he feared it would shatter like a fragile glass with one misstep step. Then again, he had never been a good dancer, and this life had held up, no matter how many times he’s missed a step.  
  
He steps through the door into his tiny apartment, thinking about the first time he’d had Lauren over. It was around this time few years back. So much has changed.  
  
“Honey? I’m home,” he calls out, keeping his voice down. It is late, and Lauren might’ve gone to bed already. Tomorrow will be long, and she needs lots of rest, considering everything.

  
To his surprise, she is wide awake, sitting comfortably in front of the fireplace, reading aloud. A blanket covers her, while she lounges against a pillow on the couch.

Lauren greets him with a smile, and it chases away all the cold he felt before. “You’re back late. Did one of the shelves fall over again?", she jokes, marking her page and setting the book on her lap.   
  
_The Secret Garden_. A shared favorite between them. She’s been reading it a lot lately. The reason why, and whom she reads to makes him smile.   
  
“Yeah. We really need to get better supports, because one of these days it’s gonna fall on someone, and that someone would be me. I personally do _not_ want to die right now,” he replies. The black wool coat he was wearing slides off his shoulders and finds it place on the coat rack.   
  
“I will kill you if you die anytime soon, and you know that,” she says, half-joking.  
  
Kieran laughs a little, “I know you would, and I wouldn’t blame you”. He walks over to sit next to her.

Lauren tries to move her legs, but stumbles a little, temporarily losing her balance.

Kieran jerks forward like a lightning bolt. The couple could later agree that that moment was the single fastest time Kieran had ever moved in his life. And could you blame him? He was seriously worried! 

A soft laugh echoes throughout the quiet home, aligning with the symphony of firewood, wind, and stillness. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” she mumbles, putting a hand on her stomach. “Sophia is, too.”

Kieran looks down at the growing bump. The baby was due in just two weeks. It made him a little nervous. “You don’t know if the baby will be a girl! You could’ve just called the baby boy ‘Sophia’!” he says. The attempt at a joke brightens the mood just a little bit more.

“Nope. She’s Sophia. Wait and see,” Lauren replies.

“Uh-huh, yeah, and how can you tell?”

“Mommy instincts,” she says, a smug smile on her face.

The term brings Kieran to silence, not in an uncomfortable way though. He already knew he was going to be a father, and Lauren would be a mother. It just hadn’t quite sunk in yet.

The gentle melody of Greensleeves slipped into his mind, its lyrics matching the tune well. The little nativity set Lauren had brought over from the mansion sat on top of the fireplace, right next to the pictures.

Eventually, they were going to need to hang pictures on the walls. The shelf was full of photos and drawings from their time together, so much that almost all the books were hidden. Kym and Will’s wedding sat proudly next to a New Year’s Party from about two years ago. A sketch of the new Ardhalis Police Department rested behind a copy of little footprints on a piece of paper by Lukas and Lila’s daughter. A photograph of those lost in the war stood tall and regal a shelf over, a vase of roses always complimenting the gray and sepia.

Lauren looks over at Kieran. A lot had happened in the past few years. A lot would happen in the upcoming. She’s already talked to him about it a million times. He still seemed nervous, though. It wasn’t like she could blame him. I mean, having a kid takes guts. She knows about that. Hell, the kid is literally growing in her. It’s scary. This is scary.

Adjusting slightly, she laid her head on Kieran’s shoulder. Lauren couldn’t see him, but felt his head move on to hers. It was scary, but they had each other. A long time ago, he’d promised that no harm would ever come to her. So far, he’s held up that promise.  
  
Eventually, Kieran had started humming the soft lullaby, stuck in his head. Neither knew when the other had fallen asleep.

The angelic snow kept falling, and it would keep falling all night. That’s just how winters were in Ardhalis. It was beyond freezing outside, but the fire and the blankets kept their little family warm. If Gods are willing, this little family would never feel the cold again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) If possible, support the authors of Purple Hyacinth in any way possible! Whether that be through Patreon or just leaving a comment, support them! They're wonderful and deserver SO much!! Thanks again, and I'll see you in time!


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